Reminiscence
by Sherry-Doll
Summary: The night before Yellow Box Warehouse. Sequel to Antipathy - depends on how you look at it.


**Heck, it took a LOOONG time to finish this...and then when I wrote a whole chunk, I FORGOT TO SAVE IT. I'm such an idiot. But more or less, I think this is better than what I had originally. More or less. Whoah, I think this is the most I've written...ever...O.O  
**

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The door swings open smoothly and silently as Halle peers around the entrance. Gevanni is sitting hunched over a desk, eyes tired but alert, darting from the real notebook to the fake that he was making, copying the neat handwriting carefully. The solitary lamp casts a bright light on the paper, reflecting onto Near's face. He is watching the progress intently, gaze focused and absorbed.

She walks further into the room, her high-heeled boots clacking across the smooth floor, sounding sharp and loud in comparison with the soft scratching of Gevanni's pen. Wincing, she slides into a chair next to the pair, trying to make as little noise as possible. Near nods without looking up. "Yes? You have it?"

She sets down the cup of coffee, feeling slightly irritated at the fact that he was treating her as nothing more than an errand girl.

"Gevanni." He starts and looks up, tired eyes alighting on the cup with a hungry, almost feverish gaze. Gulping down a few mouthfuls, he winces as the burning liquid scalds his throat and throws a weary smile at Halle. "Black, really?"

"Hey, it'll keep you up." She shrugs and grins back at him.

Near makes a small, impatient sound and she glances at him, surprised. He has never shown any sign of edginess before. The light mood evaporates instantly as Gevanni resumes copying the notebook and Halle realizes how tight the situation is. If the fake isn't completed, if there is one flaw in it, Mikami could find out. And then what would happen to them? Halle has never been afraid of death, but that's because death has never been so close before.

The minutes drip by as the cup slowly empties and Halle stands up to get more, this time for herself as well. Sliding on her jacket, she shuts the door on the stifling tension of the room and walks across the pedestrian crossing to the convenience store, which is the only shop left open at three-thirty in the morning. She purchases the strongest coffee there, which isn't very strong at all – but it's better than nothing. After a moment's hesitation, she picks out a sandwich, ignoring the sleepy yawns erupting from the drowsy shop assistant behind the counter. Halle looks at the building where the remaining SPK members work, and walks away in the opposite direction, deciding to take her time in getting back. After all, she isn't needed there, and besides, she never got the chance to really _see_ Japan; she was always busy with some job assigned to her or acting as Takada's bodyguard.

Turning the corner, she finds herself at an empty park that she has never noticed before. It's nice to take a break once in a while, feel the fresh cold air on your cheeks before…well, _that_. The thing she's been looking forward to but dreading at the same time.

Kira's defeat was inevitable. Even if they didn't succeed (which was a possibility that she had tried not to consider but always found herself thinking about anyway), there would be others; others who would take their place and fight for _real_ justice, not the false one Kira killed for. They would fight, just like the SPK did after L's death. And, perhaps, _perhaps_, they would win.

Sighing, she sits on one of the swings, placing Gevanni's coffee on the ground beside her and cupping her own, bringing it close to her face as she exhales again. The sandwich is carefully wrapped up and leaning on the side of the swing set. The liquid, she discovers, taking a sip, is cold. She shouldn't have bought it yet, she thinks absently. But she doesn't really care.

Halle decides that she might as well drink Gevanni's one too, and buy more later.

Mello is dead. Resting her head against the chain link holding up the swing, she dwells on that for a second. She had liked Mello. She doesn't think that it was love, or pity. It may have been pity at first, but she had soon realized that Mello didn't _need_ sympathy or any of that; he was far too aggressive to let anyone feel sorry for _him_. And love…she didn't know him long enough to love him, or feel anything similar to that emotion. What she felt was genuine liking; no shades of grey or complications, just pure fondness. Whether she thought of him as a brother or family member, she didn't know. It seems plain stupid to think about it, or try to name it. It was simply there, and it was up to her to decide what it was.

But now he is gone, and there is almost no one left. Matt too, even though she didn't know him that well either. But she knew him well enough to realize that he was the only person Mello trusted completely. The edgy, unbalanced relationship she had with Mello was forced, an uneasy comradeship at the most. It's something she resents, hates almost.

For how long she ponders on that, she doesn't know.

Halle swallows the last of the coffee and reaches down for Gevanni's. A stray dog trots into the park, looks at her questioningly with perked ears and resumes its journey, nose to the ground.

After a while in which she takes a few sips and sighs some more, she hears a sniffing noise from behind her, and swivels around awkwardly in the swing. The dog is back, and she relaxes; what harm can it do? She laughs quietly when it snuffles at her hand, unafraid, pressing its wet nose eagerly against her palm. Halle feels a twitch of pity as it huffs slightly and scratches its ear almost violently, remembering her own dog that had died only a month or so ago. Holly had never had fleas, but she resembled this dog, except for the matted, tangled fur that came from living on the streets.

She lifts the cup to her lips and gazes up at the inky black night, at the few stars that penetrate the thick, polluted skies of Tokyo. The moon shines through the heavy clouds brightly, stubbornly as she absentmindedly strokes the dog's head. The thought hits her – had Mello perhaps done the same thing that dark night? Did he stare up into the hollow depths of the universe as she did now? He must have known the end was coming, must have only thought about it when he left to kidnap Takada, if ever. Mello was not the type to reminisce, and would probably snort at something like that.

The haze of her mixed thoughts is rudely and startlingly interrupted when the dog suddenly leaps forward. Halle jumps up, alarmed, and reaches for her gun instinctively, but it's after the sandwich, not an intruder, and after seizing it between its jaws, the dog scarpers into the thick bush nearby to eat in peace.

Halle exhales slowly, a prick of irritation staining her otherwise calm mood. After downing the rest of Gevanni's coffee in quick gulps, she picks up the other cup, tossing them both in the bin as she passes it. She glances back over her shoulder at the dog that has just emerged from the bush, shaking itself from head to tail. Telling herself that she was imagining the guilty look on its furry face, she makes her way back to the convenience store. The streetlights illuminate her path in round, pale patches, and it feels strangely hostile. The shadowy buildings tower on either side of her, so she shrinks towards the light, but that makes her feel exposed, as if the streetlamp is actually a spotlight bearing down on her coldly, menacingly. Halle has never been afraid of the dark, but tonight the air is filled with shadows and demons of the mind that can't be banished just like that. It feels as if she's on another planet, another century. The emptiness seeps into her and fills her with loneliness, but she turns the corner and there's the convenience store, all happy with bright lights and painted smiles on the glass walls, the neon stripes glowing with a cheerfulness that nearly overwhelms her.

Halle enters the shop again, the quiet music in the background dispelling her dark thoughts softly, gently, as if easing them out of her mind. Smiling sheepishly at the shop assistant who stares back, obviously remembering her, she picks out another sandwich and a cup of coffee. The assistant glances at her as she scans the items. "Rough night?"

Halle laughs shortly. "You know the drill. Work comes first."

She smiles and blinks her eyes drowsily. "It's the first time I've been on a night shift. I never thought it'd be so tiring. Or boring."

Nodding, Halle reads the nametag pinned on the assistant's blouse. "Say…Amaya-san…what do you think about Kira?"

A feverish light enters her eyes, but she replies easily. "Oh, he's okay. I mean, I'm not sure if it's right to kill people, but he's killing criminals, so it's better."

Halle knows that look. She knows it because it's the look that Takada had every time she talked about Kira, the look all the Kira supporters had. She knows it all too well, and it plagues her; because if Kira has supporters who will go that far for him, how can they hope to win?

She closes her eyes and swallows down the misgivings. When she opens them, Amaya is staring at her strangely again, so she smiles and waves goodbye. Halle quickly steps out of the shop and into the cold night air. She checks her watch. 4:07. Hurrying back across the pedestrian crossing, she hopes that they're too engrossed to worry about the time, and bursts into the building as quietly as she can. The sight she sees is unexpected and slightly shocking.

Both notebooks are stacked neatly on top of each other in a corner of the desk. Gevanni is nowhere to be seen, but Halle acknowledges the yellow posted note on the table and assumes that he got tired of waiting for her and got his own coffee. The strangest thing, however, is that Near is lying curled up in a small ball, fast asleep with his arms wrapped around one of his toy robots. Halle doesn't think she has ever seen Near sleeping before, and the sight of his pale white face tugs at her heart. He was always cold and emotionless in a childish sort of way, and Halle had never liked him, but now she realized just how young he was. Seventeen? No, eighteen. They hadn't even known when his birthday was. As much as she wants to think that he was a horrible old guy with antisocial tendencies, she can't overlook the fact that he had only just become a full-fledged adult. She hears a small inner voice laughing at her, mocking her, feeling as if it would kick a pie in her face just to emphasize her stupidity.

She sighs for what must have been the fiftieth time _at least_, and sets the coffee and the sandwich down, looking around for a blanket. Upon finding one, she carefully drapes it around Near's shoulders, trying not to disturb him. He twitches a little, muttering something that sounds oddly like "muffins", and sleeps on, clutching the robot even tighter. And she feels like a mother looking at her son tucked into bed after a long, hard day.

Perhaps this is what could have been if he wasn't the world's greatest prodigy.

The sun slowly inches its way up the horizon and casts its glow on the Yellow Box Warehouse that they are destined to either win or lose in - the place they could be destined to die in.

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**Yeah, the Halle disliking Near a little less didn't really work out. Instead there's a huge bit of musings and such. Boring? That's okay...But it would be great if I got feedback...*hint hint nudge nudge* The ending sucks, but oh well.**


End file.
